


Picking Up the Pieces

by Nikita



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Anger, Earth, Feelings, Food, Healing, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, May make you hungry, Mind Rape, Mirror Universe, POV First Person, UST, Vulcans, fragment sentences, post episode Mirror Mirror
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-22
Updated: 2014-05-22
Packaged: 2018-01-26 03:53:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,645
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1673717
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikita/pseuds/Nikita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Leonard and Spock must confront the damage done in the mirror universe...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Picking Up the Pieces

**Author's Note:**

> Original Note: I love stories dealing with the Mirror universe and its aftereffects…so why not write my own?? : ) If this story makes you hungry in certain places you can blame me… I was hungry when I wrote certain scenes… 
> 
> New Note: My apologies for excessive ellipsis marks and fragment sentences. I'd fix them, but they seem to suit the fic so I left them.

 

^*^*^*^ Evasion ^*^*^*^

 

I see his face in my mind constantly. So similar and yet so different. Not just the beard, but also the intensity of his eyes. The intensity, which both scared and thrilled me as they burned into my own. 

I told Jim and the others that I didn’t remember the mind meld in the other universe. The staff meeting was quiet as I admitted that the Mirror Spock forced a meld to retrieve information about us. As I felt all those eyes on me, staring at me with growing pity and revulsion…I knew I couldn’t tell them. Tell them how it burned. How invading it felt. Like a rape. And it was - a rape of the mind. And the doctor within me tells me I cannot keep this secret: that I need to tell someone and deal with it as if it were a physical rape. But I can’t. Because the doctor in me doesn’t have to deal with the wreck of a man that will fall apart if he speaks the words out loud. Doesn’t have to see the pity grow and spread throughout the ship with gossip and rumor. 

And I can’t, coward that I am, face it. Not now. It’s too fresh. Too new. I need a bit of time, a bit of distance from the event. So I can deal with it in a more objective mindset. Surely a coping method that even the most logical of Vulcans could approve of. Give it time.

 

_*_*_

 

I feel his eyes on me. Watching. Does he suspect? Why should he? I can be a wonderful actor when I want to be. Hell, maybe I should have been a vid actor instead of a doctor. Less paperwork, I’m sure. My In Box is nearly empty, though. I’ve been working. Almost nonstop. Can’t quite seem to be able to stay in my quarters for long lately. Too small. Too confining. Too much quiet. And far too much time on my hands. All that time to think of things I’d rather not think about just now. Not now. Later. For now…there’s work.

 

_*_*_

 

Damn it, he DOES know. He’s watching me even closer now. He’ll approach me soon; I know it. Can’t think about it. 

There’ll be a new mission or some scientific discovery and he’ll be distracted from this…this situation or whatever you’d call it. He’ll realize it’s pointless. It’s private. Isn’t that supposed to be sacred to Vulcans?! Privacy? You’d never know it from my experiences lately… 

No, no…work. Go back to work.

 

_*_*_

 

“Doctor.” 

Damn it! Two more seconds and I would’ve been in the turbolift alone. Two seconds and I’d have been able to close the doors on him. Go to my office and lock the damn door. I’ve got work to do; can’t he understand that? 

“What is it, Spock? I’ve got things to do.” 

Spock’s eyebrow rises as it always does when I say something too human. If I wasn’t in such a hurry I’d smirk. But I’m too busy just now. Far too busy… 

“Indeed. It was my understanding that it is currently your free shift. Do you not require rest?” 

Oh, I’m _dying_ to tell him off for practicing medicine without a license. Tell ME when I need rest?! But I don’t want a confrontation. “No. I’m not tired. I’ve got work to do.” The lift doors open and I step out into the corridor. He’s following me. I quicken my pace. I make it to sickbay and I hurry to my office. Surely he’ll move on. No luck. 

“Dr. McCoy, I need to talk to you about a personal matter…” 

Godammit, not now! 

“I’m busy, Spock.” I look at my desk, but it’s cleared. How the hell did that happen? All these years in Starfleet and I’ve YET to have a day without a single chart or report to go over. It’s a miracle – or rather a nightmare. I’ll check the labs…

“I’m sure we can schedule some time later, Spock. If you’ll excuse me-” I push past him in the doorway and he steps back, but somehow in my haste I manage to trip over the threshold. I stumble and nearly fall, but with his quick reflexes to catch me and prop me against the wall. 

Oh, god…too close! He’s leaning forward. Any second now he’ll lift his hand…put his fingertips to my face and **PUSH**. His mind is pushing in my own. **PUSH** and my mind is wide open. The pain…the fear…the violation! He doesn’t care…he’s cold and disdainful…he ignores my screams. But they’re all in my head. No one can hear me, but him. He looks into my eyes and they burn… 

He gasps and jerks his hands back off of my arms and backs up a step. I’m shaking as I tug my uniform straight and push off the wall. 

“Ahem. Thank you, Spock. Excuse me…” I all but run to Lab 3 and as soon as the door slides shut I lock it and allow myself to slide to the floor…shaking.

 

^*^*^*^ Check ^*^*^*^

 

My fingers experience a strange tingling sensation from where I touched the skin of his wrists and arms. My fingers tingle, but my mind burns. My worst suspicions are now confirmed. I look over at the closed door of the lab and consider my new course of action. He requires help. His mind has been raped and the trauma is not being dealt with. His evasion is understandable, but only further damaging his mental health. I must report this. A Vulcan healer will be needed. 

I return to his office and leave him a message on his terminal: 

>Dr. McCoy: I am aware of your current situation and needs. A Vulcan healer will be required to undo the damage you have received. I will notify the captain and request a leave of absence.< 

My first stop is to my own rooms. I contact T’Pau as she has the necessary connections and influence to make the arrangements. My next transmission is to my parents with a request and I am quickly granted permission. My mother offers me an illogical wish for luck as I sign off. My final request is made to the captain in his quarters.

“Are you certain, Spock?” The captain holds up his hand before I can respond. “No, no, I don’t doubt your word, of course. It just seems so…unbelievable. How is it we all missed this? Why hasn’t he come to us about this?”

“The doctor is a private man, and this is a most private matter. And it may well be that he is not fully aware of the extent of the damage.” 

Jim paces the room, shaking his head. “Of course I’d grant your request, but Fleet-” 

“You will most likely find your request easily accepted, captain. T’Pau will have made the necessary inquiries. I need only your official approval.”

“Granted. How shall I tell Bones…?”

“I have no doubt that I will have an opportunity to inform him, if you wish.”

 

_*_*_

 

“How could you?! This is none of your business!” McCoy had barged into his cabin after overriding his security lock with his medical authorization. A serious misuse of authority, but one that I was willing to overlook due to the circumstances. 

“I am sorry you feel that way, doctor. But it was necessary. Not only for your own health, but for you patients. You are not of fit mind at present time.” 

“Who died and made you Chief Medical Officer?! Certainly not me! You’ve relieved me of my duties and arranged for my leave of absence AND you’re shipping me of to Vulcan without so much as a ‘by your leave’?!” 

“You are correct about the first two statements, but you are not being ‘shipped to Vulcan.’ There will be a Vulcan healer meeting us on Earth for your treatment. I have arranged for a personal leave as well and will accompany you.” 

It was interesting to watch his mouth flop open and then close with a snap. He glared at me before casting his eyes around the room. Grabbing the small firepot on the table next to him, he threw it against the wall. Smashing it into several small pieces. Turning on his heel, he stormed out of the room. A crewman passing by gaped in surprise and glanced into my cabin at me before hurrying off. I kneel to pick up the pieces of the vase and am struck by the incongruity of the fact that I am attempting to pick up the pieces of the medical officer as well. 

I doubt he would appreciate the irony.

 

^*^*^*^Consideration^*^*^*^

  

Damned interfering, nosey Vulcans! I’m still furious, but I already regret breaking his firepot. It’s so unlike my usual behavior and I’m fully aware of that fact. Still, at that moment I needed to vent and I really wanted to hit him – no, not him, the other Spock. The one that put me in this situation. The one that still haunts my dreams and invades my mind over and over again. 

I consider facing Jim and yelling at him, too, but it’s pointless. I’ll just be spreading my irrational anger around and only confirm the fact that Leonard H. McCoy has lost his ever-lovin’ mind. 

And maybe I have. Because now that I’m sitting in my quarters with a drink in my hand, and I’m starting to change my mind about the course of events. Earth…he’s taking me to Earth. Blue skies and green grass. I’m not sure where on the planet we’ll stay, but the very idea of the planet is making me homesick. How many years has it been? Too long…far too long.

‘Course, I’m still mad at him. He’s still an interfering nosey bastard, but maybe he’s got the right idea.

I won’t tell him that, though.

 

^*^*^*^ Reluctance ^*^*^*^

 

We have been dropped off at Starbase 23 in order to take a shuttle to Earth. The doctor stands next to me with his bag slung over his shoulder and a frown upon his lips. He is determined to maintain his negative attitude towards the trip, but he has kept his complaints to a minimum so far. I have little hope that this will continue, however. 

“So where’s the shuttle, Spock?” 

No sooner does he ask then a tall blond human steps up in a flight uniform. “Commander Spock and Dr. McCoy? Shuttle’s this way, sirs.” 

I glance over at the doctor and he gives me a snort before following the man towards the docking bay. It will be a long flight.

 

_*_*_

 

“No! Nooo….Spock – don’t!”

I drop my hands from their meditative clasp and sit up on the narrow bunk. Reaching over I touch his wrist lightly, trying not to disturb him unduly. I should have remembered the effect my touch had last time as he jumps, staring at his wrist with horror before looking into my eyes, his own are wide and wild. 

I let go and step back. “You were having a dream. Are you all right now, doctor?” 

He slowly relaxes and nods, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Same dream. When do we arrive?” 

“Two point three hours. Perhaps you would like to ‘freshen up.’” I nod towards the back area and he raises an eyebrow mockingly. 

“I don’t need a mother hen, Spock. I know when I need to use the facilities.”

I nod and return to my bunk and my meditation. He gives a frustrated sigh and wanders to the back despite his words.

 

^*^*^*^ Healing ^*^*^*^

 

I would never have expected this of him. I’m in Georgia. The pointy-eared devil rented us a lovely little cottage in my home state. He claims his father has connections with the owner from previous peace keeping conventions and that he thought the quiet and solitude would be conducive to the healing process. All true, I’m sure. But it’s still hogwash. He was watching me closely as we arrived. I couldn’t help the wide grin I know I was sporting when we first walked up to it. 

It’s beautiful. Late spring with the flowers in bloom, birds singing and a breeze that has the dogwood tree out front swaying gently. I take a deep breath and feel more truly home then I ever have before. I think he’s enjoying it, too. Not that he’d admit it. But he takes long walks with me and appreciates the variety of plants and colors. I don’t know how much time he’s spent on Earth before. I want to ask, but I’m still being stubborn about opening up. 

I have an appointment tomorrow with the healer. How he managed to finagle a Vulcan healer to meet me here I’ll never know. To say I’m not looking forward to the session is putting it mildly. I’m scared. I don’t want to relive the mindmeld and I don’t want anyone else in my head.

 

_*_*_

 

The Vulcan healer was about what you’d expect. Cool, tall and regal, though she’s younger than I would’ve thought. She met me at the cottage and Spock left us in privacy to go for a walk. She had me relate my memories of the meld before attempting a healing one to fix whatever damage the other one did to my psyche. It’s a long gut-wrenching session, which ended with me on my knees, sobbing. She told me we would continue the next day so I had time to process the progress we had made that day.

Progress? If you call me whimpering progress then I suppose we did swimmingly today. I retreated to my bedroom for the rest of the evening and only came out when he called me to dinner. He had fixed a salad and pasta but it felt like sand in my mouth. I avoided eye contact and left as soon as politely possible. 

The next day was much the same, but I wasn’t quite as much a wreck when we finished. I could feel cool strains of logic that she helped me build amongst the chaotic thrashing in my brain. She helped me replay the meld, but this time as a distant observer. I was drained, but eerily calm when she left. Spock seemed to sense my need for quiet once more and I spent the evening outside on the old rocker watching the birds and squirrels and he sat on the porch swing reading a book. 

By the third day I was beginning to get a grip on things. I was far from healed, but I could see that we _were_ making progress and she gave me some meditative exercises that seemed to help. 

Spock suggested we go out to lunch today after my therapy and I was thrilled to find my old favorite hole-in-the-wall burger joint still operating. I sat down to one of their big juicy hamburgers with enthusiasm I haven’t felt in years. Starships are NOT known for their cuisine. I haven’t had a decent piece of meat in years – much less a burger. I bite into it with a small moan of pleasure. Homemade barbecue sauce stains my lips and I lick them with another moan, eyeing my burger for the next bite. I become aware of eyes on me and glance up to the raised eyebrow across from me. Spock’s eyes are riveted on my mouth. I lick my lips again and his eyes follow the movement before darting up to my eyes. He drops the eyebrow and focuses on his own plate of vegetable casserole. 

I hide a grin behind a napkin and watch him take a bite. “How is it?”

“Palatable, thank you.”

“I doubt they put as much effort in their vegetarian dishes as they do in their burgers, which they’re known for. I can’t believe I forgot how good they were…mmmmm….” 

“I do not have to ask you how you are enjoying ‘your’ meal.”

I smile again and relish the spices and small bits of tomato from the sauce.   “Nope…thanks for suggesting we go out. I do feel bad about your food, though. Tell you what; tonight I’ll cook dinner for you. I make a mean vegetable lasagna.” 

He raises his eyebrow again at this. “Mean?” 

“The best. We’ll need to find a vegetable stand, though. Do you like zucchini? Or maybe I’ll make my baked beans instead. A bit of onion, spices, brown sugar and they’re baked in a crock slowly in the oven. They’ve got a secret ingredient, though…” 

I finished my burger with great satisfaction and I noted Spock’s occasional glance.

 

^*^*^*^ Advancement ^*^*^*^

 

He seems to be making progress in his sessions. He meditates in the evenings and his demeanor is far more relaxed. He still has a lot of work to do before he will be able to return to work, but I can see he is slowly healing. His color is better and he enjoys the setting. I wonder occasionally why he decided to leave, but I remember his adventurous spirit and need to help others. I suppose that he enjoys challenges and the chance to see new worlds. I can understand this mindset. It is what led me to Starfleet as well.

But I do not miss Vulcan as much as he obviously misses Earth. As I look out into the garden with its lush greens and brilliant flowers, I believe I understand…

 

_*_*_

 

The healer has asked me to join the therapy session today. They have reached a plateau in treatment and it is necessary that I participate. I can tell that McCoy is apprehensive about this but he agrees to the meld. By accepting a meld voluntarily with someone he trusts, he will lose some of the apprehension he retains in telepathic engagement in general, but also it will lessen his association of my touch with that of the ‘other’. 

I press my fingertips to the meld points and he squeezes his eyes shut.

“McCoy – look into his eyes…” the healer commands. He opens them reluctantly and I carefully enter his mind. He is open by sheer will power. I feel the emotions that tug on his control, but he is far stronger in shunting them aside than I would have anticipated. I intentionally make the meld shallow and unfocused. He slowly relaxes, though he maintains his control and allows our thoughts to merge on a basic level. I continue to gaze into his blue eyes and my thoughts drift into analyzing the distinct shade. They remind me of the sky in the early morning outside my bedroom window.

He ‘hears’ this thought. //Why, thank you…never knew you were a poet. Your eyes are a lovely dark brown. But I think your nicest features are your hands…// 

//My hands?//

//Yes, long fingered and elegant. Your fingertips burn where they touch my face, but it is a good heat. I think it is the intensity of your gaze which draws me to your eyes usually…they seem to burn into me just now…//

//As his did…You were fascinated by his eyes…how they focused on you with such intensity. But they were not the eyes you wanted on you…// Our thoughts are merging with greater ease.

//Yes…//

//You thought of me as he forced his way into your mind…//

//Yes…he found it mildly amusing, but was disdainful…he was certain no Vulcan would find me worthy of even the slightest interest beyond amusement…//

//He was wrong…//

 

_*_*_

 

The meld ended gradually and the healer was satisfied with the session. She has left for Vulcan this morning and our leave will be over in a 3.5 days and I have arranged for a shuttle on our final day to rendezvous with Enterprise as they near Starbase 23 once more.

I listen to him cooking in the kitchen. I attempted to help him earlier, but was promptly ordered out of the kitchen. He seems sad we will be leaving, but as he complains about the likely state of his sickbays with M’Benga in charge during his leave, I know he is looking forward to returning to the ship as well. 

“All right…come and get it!”

I sit down to a full table. Tonight he craved Greek so he made stuffed grape leaves, Spinakopita and a large tomato and cucumber salad with fresh mint. I accept a portion of each and enjoy the unique flavors of feta and Calamata olives as he hands me a large chunk of bread.

“Mmmm, I’ll miss this fresh food when we go back. It’ll be real hard to eat those cardboard entrees again.”

I resist the temptation to remind him that there is no processed paper products included in rations aboard the Enterprise as I take a bite of one of the grape leaves. I must admit, he has a point that such fresh ingredients will be lacking.

“Spock…I’ve been wanting to say this for a while and I just couldn’t until now… Thank you. For everything. For making me see the healer and making me take a vacation and for choosing such a wonderful spot that feels like home. I can never express my gratitude properly. Except…thank you.”

“You're welcome, doctor. I feel certain you would have done the same for me…”

He smiles and sets a hand out tentatively on the tabletop, hand facing up. “I would…though I hope you will never need it.” 

I touch his hand with my own and feel a warm swirl of emotions and tenderness. He doesn’t flinch, only grips my hand tightly and I look up into his eyes. 

“And Spock? Call me Leonard.”

 

^*^*^* End ^*^*^*^


End file.
